Snow
by LadyLynlyra
Summary: I tell my cousins versions of fairytales when babysitting that I basically just cobble together on the fly. My cousin Johnny asked for some in text to re-read and share now that I live far away.
1. Snow

A/N: Leans heavily on Hall of Mirrors by Silver Pard AND a bit on The Fairest of Them All by TrudiRose, both on this site and both marvelous, and highly recommended. T for implied violence.

Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom, lived a handsome king and his lovely wife. Their kingdom was prosperous and peaceful. In fact, they had all they could wish for save one thing – a child. The king was riding out to the distant edges of the kingdom to check on the villages there, and in that bleak winter the Queen sat watching from her window for his return, sewing by the bright light of the full moon. She pricked her forefinger with the needle and stared at the dark red splotch of blood on the pure white snow layered on the ebony tree outside her window. At that moment, she wished with all her might for a daughter whose skin was pale as the snow, whose lips were as crimson as the spilled blood, and whose hair was as dark as the bark of the tree outside. She did not wish for her daughter to have a peaceful life.

Shortly after the return of the king, it came to pass that the queen grew heavy with child. She lived long enough to see her daughter fulfilled the terms of her wish, and to name her sweet child Snow White.

The King, lonely and alone, did not know what to do with a female child himself, so hired the best nurses and handmaidens and tutors the kingdom's gold could buy. Snow grew to age seven as a sweet and upright girl who knew her letters and her etiquette and how to run a peaceful prosperous kingdom. Nothing darkened her skies and it seemed her mother's mistake in wishing would not destroy her.

But wishes are unfair and fickle things. The king felt Snow required a stronger female presence in her life, and sought to take a new wife. Far from the north came his bride, Lady Grimhilde, known far and wide as the most lovely and enchanting woman in the entire kingdom. She brought wealth to the treasury and elegance to the throne room – the latter from training and the former from her seven dead husbands. So tragic, to be a widow so many times over, and so young!

Grimhilde and young Snow spent quiet companionable time together, though there wasn't much mothering going on, as she had never before handled children. When the King would try to engage them in a stronger relationship, the new Queen would skillfully turn the conversation to matters of state, insisting on "preventative measures" to protect them from other kingdoms, or unbound cities and villages which they could kindly conquer to tax and guide. The king was often away on such campaigns at Grimhilde's advice.

Each morning, Grimhilde would consult the magic mirror inherited from her first husband. It answered two questions for her each day. First, "Mirror Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" because she was indeed quite vain – her beauty had gotten her far in life, so this information was relevant to her and her pride. Second, "What poses the greatest threat to me today?". For many years, the answers went "My Queen, you are the fairest of them all, and today's greatest threat is –" well, the French (all those revolutions), or the Austrians getting handy with her territory, or perhaps the Prussians trying to pull away into their own rulership again which was naturally unacceptable. And wasn't it lovely to hear her sweet mirror say my queen instead of my lady! She would thank the mirror and then send a message to her obedient husband about where he may want to turn his forces next. He was a kind man but not a bright one, her guidance was absolutely necessary.

But one morning, shortly before Snow White's sixteenth birthday, and shortly after Grimhilde's fortieth, the answers garnered were unexpected to say the least, since they were one and the same. "Queen you are full fair tis true, but now young Snow is fairer than you. She poses a great and mortal threat to the kingdom you protect." The mirror filled then with blood and fire and a pair of feet clamped within iron shoes. With heart heavy (even if prettier than her, her stepdaughter was the first family member she'd ever had who demanded nothing from her), she ordered her huntsman to take Snow deep into the Black Forest and kill her there, and bring back Snow's heart to preserve for her father, with some pretty lie about her death at the hands of an animal or rebellious group within the kingdom.

The next day, the huntsman took Snow white through animal trails deep, deep into the heart of the woods. He prepared to strike her down, but when she gazed in fear upon him instead he dropped his knife at her feet and abandoned her, urging her to "Run! Run! Never return and never trust the Queen, for she ordered your death. Go!" And he returned to the castle and she stared after him. She wandered the woods for days, eating berries without knowing they might kill her, cutting all her hair away raggedly with the forgotten knife after discovering somethings crawling in it, getting wet in the rain and freezing in the night and not drying properly during the day as the treetops were too thick to let the sun through.

After many days and thinking she would die, she fell into a clearing and saw the sun again at last and last and fell dead faint on the soft moss around a small, handsome cottage. Later that evening, as the clearing was growing dark, seven small men marched into their glen and discovered her there. They debated but eventually decided to drag the dirty wretched creature into their home and see what could be done to help it. As it turned out, a hot bath and a thick broth and a warm bed did much to help her, and she told them her tale and why she had run in a bitter voice too old for her young years. They agreed to let her stay with them in a cot below the stairs if she would take over the chores of the house and glen. So she stayed.

She had no place else to go anyway.

Many days and months passed, and each morning the dwarves warned Snow not to trust anyone. It was an unnecessary warning, as really, no-one should trust Snow. She was a hunter now, a prowler. And though sometimes travelers between kingdoms around the forest had come through the glen, they never came out again. At least there was always stew for Snow and the dwarves.

Back in the kingdom, the Queen was worried. Her huntsman was missing and her kingdom's people were disappearing in the wood, and when she that morning asked her mirror her questions had gotten the reply "Queen you are full fair tis true, but in the cottage in the glen, with the seven little men, lives Snow White, who is 100 times more fair than you." And the mirror filled with blood and fire and a pair of feet clamped into iron shoes. The queen searched for the glen on her maps and searched her magic books for a solution to the problem.

More months went by and the Queen came in magical disguise to Snow White, and offered her a cart full of lovely clothes, stopping by 'on her way through the wood'. Snow had been so long from finery that she selected a lovely corset and asked the peddler to lace it for her (not that she could pay but what the peddler didn't know would kill her after the lacing was done). Grimhilde laced the corset tight tight tight until Snow couldn't breathe, and then left the girl suffocating on the soft moss of the clearing as the sun slowly sank below the trees.

The dwarves arrived and found Snow and unlaced her from the corset in time for her to gasp a long terrified breath. She had so long been the hunter that she forgot what it was to be the prey, and had dropped her guard. The dwarves tisked and scolded and warned her again to trust no one. She heartily agreed.

Soon the Queen turned to her mirror again and to her dismay saw blood and smoke and feet in iron, along with the words "Queen you are full fair tis true but in the cottage in the glen, with the seven little men, still breathes Snow White, who is one thousand times more fair than you." She returned to her books.

Again she came in different magical disguise, with a basket of beautiful combs – ivory and tortoiseshell and glass and gold. Snow had grown less cautious again as time went by with no further attempts on her life, and she truly did miss the lovely trinkets of her kingdom. But she remembered the warning the dwarves had given her that morning, and only opened the window to lean out and speak with the elderly peddler woman. The woman cooed over Snow's perfect black hair, once again grown long and shining, and requested to comb it out as it would set off a jeweled comb she had to perfection. Snow was a princess still and did enjoy flattery which she never got from the dwarves (and often got from her victims) and allowed the queen to comb out her hair. Grimhilde selected a poisoned comb from her basket, and combed Snow White's lovely hair, weeping internally at how gorgeous the girl had grown and wishing she could take another course but things were set now. Snow fell onto the floor of the cottage, poisoned and weak.

The dwarves returned to find her beyond even her usual pale complexion, weeping blood and panting shallow breaths. When they found no corset they searched around her person until the comb came out, and she coughed and shook and came slowly back to life as the source of the poison was removed. The dwarves took time to wonder at Snow White's intelligence – hadn't there been one attempt on her life already? Hadn't she learned her lesson? She certainly thought she had now if not before.

This time the Queen did not wait. The very next morning she came to the mirror and almost shouted her questions at it. But, "Queen you are full fair tis true, but in the cottage, in the glen, with the seven little man, still stands Snow White, who is ten thousand times more fair than you." Blood. Smoke. Fire. Iron. The queen, for the very first time in her life, swore aloud. The girl was a cat, impossible to truly destroy. The very universe seemed on her side. What was needed to prevent the coming calamity was a way to disable her as long as possible, without trying so actively to kill her. Back to the books it was then.

It was a while before she hit upon the solution, which was probably a good thing as it meant Snow forgot enough caution to not stab any peddler on sight. Snow was making a feast for the dwarves, it was one of their birthdays – the one who usually wore orange, all this time and she still couldn't pronounce their names. Dwarven language is rough on royal vocal cords.

"That smells wonderful!"

Snow nearly jumped from her skin at the cheerful voice. She glared at the lovely young farmer girl and considered if the knife she was using on the apples was sharp enough to kill the woman if it was thrown. Probably. But…she looked too pretty to be her stepmother in disguise frankly, and she had a basket of apples, enough for a whole other pie.

"How much for the apples." Snow spoke shortly and didn't really use question marks.

"I'll trade you for that recipe and comb! It's so pretty." Snow had cleaned the poisoned comb and used it. She fingered it gently now, considering. That was a good deal, it wasn't like she needed the comb.

"Done."

The girl took the comb, listened to the recitation of the recipe a few times over, then placed the basket on the windowsill and left. Snow pulled the basket closer. The apples were so fresh and juicy. Right on top there was one gleaming gold and blush pink, fit to burst with ripeness. Snow took a bite.

When the dwarves found her that evening, pale and faint, they combed her hair and cleaned her skin, unlaced her corset and checked for wounds. But there was nothing. Her cheeks still held their faint rosy color, she looked simply sleeping without breathing. They didn't cry really – they were too stoic for that on the whole, but in the end they could not bear to bury such beauty in the ground. They crafted her a coffin of glass, edged in their gold and decorated with their gems, a true work of art.

It sat in their glen, and she did not rot or fade. The queen had done her work well. Snow lay there, not dead, not living, not able to cause the destruction forseen. The mirror had told her so. "Snow White still lies pale and fair, in the glen with sun and air, but once again your rule is true, there is no beauty fairer than you." And she had seen the coffin and wept, but there was no blood, no smoke, no fire. She breathed, truly took a deep free breath, for the first time in years. She should have known better. You cannot halt a prophecy, only delay it a little while.

Several years went by in peace and prosperity, the forest no longer a land of death under Snow White's rule. So it came to pass that even the nobility of other lands rode through. And a man named Ferdinand, who was a prince in a distant kingdom, passed the coffin of Snow White. He saw much in her face – a beautiful artwork, a maiden he could have loved, a fierce determination and haughty pride appropriate to a princess. He spoke with the dwarves, and made a deal with them. Protection from any kingdom ruling their home and caverns, visits to and supplies from the palace when they wished, and he would buy their artwork that was Snow White. They agreed. Art was not meant to be hoarded and hidden away.

He gathered a carriage and pallbearers to bring her to his kingdom. On the way into the palace, one carrier tripped, knocking all down. The coffin fell hard onto its end but did not shatter – those Dwarves did good work, certainly! – and then something strange occurred. The girl within the coffin opened her bright eyes, pushed the lid open, and gracefully stepped out. She was barefoot and the morning sun lit her dress to look as pale as her skin. She peered around. She did not look afraid. She took a step towards the prince over a piece of apple, and took his hand.

Grimhilde listened to the announcement of her fellow monarch's wedding. She was invited. But she felt in her bones that something was deeply wrong. For the first time in a long while, she consulted with her mirror. "Should I attend this wedding?" No rhymes, no games. But the mirror would only reply "Queen you are full fair tis true, but Prince Ferdinand's bride is fairer than you." Smoke, fire, iron. It didn't matter how she worded the question or asked anything else unrelated. Finally she screamed in frustration and threw the mirror down. Out of the cracks floated a soul, the prophet trapped within, who sang his rhyme once more before fading away at last. She lay in the wreckage of her foreknowledge and cried.

She still attended the wedding of course. She knew she had only delayed the inevitable. It was hardly a surprise in the end to see her stepdaughter standing at the altar. At the reception afterwards, Snow welcomed Grimhilde with a hug and a kiss as were given by Judas. She cried out to all and sundry, false tears brimming, how this woman had commanded her death to take control of the kingdom rightfully Snow's, attempted assassinations by her own hand once that had failed, and at last locked Snow in enchanted sleep only for her to finally be rescued by her "dear, sweet Ferdinand". All the guests looked at the Queen in horror. Ferdinand held his weeping new wife, and demanded the guards apprehend Grimhilde. Snow screamed hysterically that she was a traitor, treasonous, probably had led her father to his death 7 years prior. Ferdinand declared it so, and she suffered the punishment for such crimes. Bolted into iron shoes and stood on red hot coals, she burned within and without, watching the demon in her stepdaughter's eyes dance with glee until Grimhilde was dead.

Within the year King, Queen, and Prince had all died in moments of terrible, accidental tragedy. The populace, who loved their perfect and pale Princess, saw no problem with her taking control of this country in addition to reclaiming her own throne.

Peace did not come to either land for a long, long time.


	2. Snow 2

Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom, live a handsome king and his beautiful wife. While she waited one winter by a window for him to return from the hunt, sewing by the light of the moon, she pricked her thumb and the blood fell on the snow sitting on the tree beneath the window. Looking at it, she wished with all her heart for a daughter whose skin was a white as the snow, whose lips were as red as the blood, and whose hair was as black as the bark of the tree in the night. She got her wish, but she did not survive it. For many years, young Snow White was without a mother, though she had tutors and maids and her father's love.

As is often the case, he eventually remarried a gorgeous woman – in this case, from the north of their kingdom. What he did not understand was that a woman could be fair of face but vile of heart, which was the way of Snow White's stepmother. She was cruel and vindictive and greedy and proud and vain, though she was beautiful enough that perhaps it did not seem like vanity to others, and she was a student of the blackest arts of magic.

She brought little with her to the marriage but a huge, ornate mirror that hung in her bedchambers. None knew it was enchanted with the spirit of a prophet, who would show her what she wanted to know. But so shortsighted and proud and vain was she, that she only ever asked one question.

"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?"

"My queen," the mirror would daily reply, "you are the fairest of them all."

But one day, the mirror gave a new reply.

"Queen you are full fair 'tis true, but young Snow White is fairer than you."

The Queen went about in a black mood for several days before deciding she didn't really care if the brat was a Princess, she was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom _no matter what_. She called on a huntsman loyal to her and ordered him to take the child to the woods, slay her, cut out her heart, and return it to the Queen.

The Huntsman took Snow deep into the forest 'til she was thoroughly lost. He watched her hum and pick flowers. Truly, she was naught but a child. He was a wicked man, but not that wicked. He told her what had occurred and urged her to run far away. He pointed her in the direction of the next kingdom and told her how to watch the sun to make sure her path stayed true. He gave her his bread and jerky and water and returned to the kingdom with the heart of boar. He watched in disgust as the Queen salted it and ate it with great relish before deciding he was "greatly needed back at home". He was careful never to cross her path again by taking on an assumed identity and travelling abroad.

But back to our young heroine. She walked for days through the dark, scary forest, until the bread and water and jerky had all run out, her feet were bleeding, and she stumbled along almost asleep because the forest was too loud and terrifying to sleep in properly. Her cloak and dress were ragged, and her hair dirty and knotted, and her skin did not look quite as white as the snow any longer. When she thought she could go no further, she reached a clearing. There, with the sun shining down fully as she had not seen in what felt like ages, was a handsome cottage. She knocked, but there was no answer. She called out, but no-one replied. She peeked through the window and saw that the house was very dirty. Maybe, she decided, nobody lived here any longer. She entered through the unlocked door and found a room with several beds, all very short, so short even the young Princess could not lay flat out on them. She pulled two closer together and fell asleep across both, fully exhausted.

She awoke to several deep voices rumbling around her quietly. She blinked her eyes open to find several very short, stout dwarfs staring at her curiously. She greeted them, and apologized for taking their beds, and requested sanctuary from her stepmother. One dwarf indicated his displeasure with the whole idea, but the rest were friendly and willing to help. Hoping to placate him, she indicated that she would be happy to help with chores and food and mending. Her stepmother had treated her like a servant, not royalty, so she had a variety of household skills. The dwarfs agreed that was a fair trade for room and board, even the grumpy one, who still looked very grumpy.

The problem with having someplace to wash up was that Snow used it. While she had been dirty and ragged and terrified travelling through the dark, scary forest, her stepmother had easily bested her in beauty, so the mirror had not inadvertently revealed the huntsman's treachery to her. But once Snow was clean and sparkling like her namesake, with a freshly sewn dress and handsome, sturdy dwarf cobbled shoes, once her hair gleamed bright and was brushed and braided again – well, it was no contest.

"Queen you are full fair, 'tis true, but in the cottage, in the glen, with the seven little men, still lives Snow White, who is ten times as fair as you."

The Queen stalked straight to her private storeroom and considered what might work best. Obviously if you wanted a job done right you'd need to do it yourself. After some consideration, she opted for a magical disguise (old ugly hag) and a corset – simple to get the job done with. She headed through the dark, scary forest to the glen, hauling a light cart, and knocked on the door. Sweet Snow White answered and the Queen put on a simpering smile.

"Why hello there dearie! I'm so glad the lady of the house is home. I'm travelling between kingdoms with my wares," and here she gestured to the cart of clothing behind her, "and I didn't even expect to find anyone living way out here. That's a lovely dress my darling, but you do lack a corset… they are all the rage you know!" And she bobbed her head excitedly like the idiot peddlers who came to the castle. Snow White smiled brightly at her and exclaimed over the lovely fabrics and dresses as she rushed around the cart in excitement. There were several corsets, she noted, and one on careful display would match her dress exactly. She stroked longingly down the fabric.

"This one is so magnificent!" she gave a sad little smile. "I just don't think I can afford it…"

But perhaps she could. She knew the dwarfs hardly used many of the less perfect gems they brought home, and she didn't think they would mind if she traded a few for the garment. The Queen watched as hope and pensive faces flashed by in Snow's expressions.

"Well, perhaps I can – if you are willing to take a few gems rather than coins?" Snow sounded as though she thought the trade unlikely but if necessary the Queen had been pondering how to get the girl to take it for free.

"That would be a nice trade, sweetling – I can use them to decorate gowns when I get to a large city, someone will by a pretty embellished dress!" Bob, bob, bob went her head.

"Oh wonderful!" exclaimed Snow, and she ran inside and came out with a brimming handful of gems. Dear lord, did this child know the worth… no, it was clear she did not! This handful could be the castle's food money for a full month or more. Killing Snow White was the best idea she'd ever had!

"Is that not enough?" Snow looked despondent as the Queen stared at the gems.

"Hmmm? Oh, no, this is perfect child, I was just considering what sort of a dress I would put them on. Turn yourself round now, and I'll lace you right up!" Snow turned away obediently. The Queen wrapped the corset around her stepdaughter, then laced it, and laced it tighter, and tighter still. Snow White eventually ceased gasping for breath and the Queen let her body fall to the ground. She picked up the cart, gems secured away, and headed back to the castle.

Soon after, the dwarfs trooped into the clearing, hauling their day's work. Blick was the first to spot Snow White and he let out a cry, running over as fast as his short legs could go (which was surprisingly fast). He rolled her face up and saw her paler than usual face, so still; and he saw that her chest did not move with her breath. But he knew more about keeping things alive than most, which was why they called him Doc, and he found her pulse in her wrist, weak and thready though it was. The non-moving chest was wrapped in a new garment he'd never seen Snow wear before and before he had fully completed his notice of that fact he'd flipped her back over, pulled out his knife, and cut the laces. Ripping the fabric away, he heard Snow cough and wail and gasp all at once and he thumped her back a few times to get her lungs moving again. He carried her inside and laid her upon her cot, then dabbed at her face a bit with a damp cloth until she was breathing normal once more. She explained how a pleasant peddler woman had come by, and she had traded a few of their imperfect gems for a corset (she looked a bit guilty at that but Doc didn't care, they weren't using those gems for anything anyhow), and the woman had laced up the corset… which was the last thing she could remember.

"Lass, that corset was laced up so tight it near killed you. I suspect that peddler was an agent of your stepmother. She's found out somehow that you still live." Grantig, the ever-pessimist, began rumbling and grumbling about how she'd come for them all now, he'd known the girl was a danger, best turn her out, best run, best hide. Doc silenced him with a glare and placed a kiss on Snow's forehead. "Nothing more to do now, I think – if she found us once she'll find us again, and I'll not turn out a child to be killed." The rest – save Grantig – murmured their support of this. "Now, just remember girl, be careful, be cautious. You trust easy and that's dangerous for you now. Don't open the door to any save us, understand?" She nodded. He noticed her eyes drooping and they left her there to sleep.

For several days, Snow was looking rather haggard from her experience, and was too tired to do much more than make some simple dinners – she didn't wash fully, didn't braid and brush her hair, so once again the Queen felt she'd been successful. But eventually Snow's energy returned.

"Queen you are full fair, 'tis true, but in the cottage, in the glen, with the seven little men, still breathes Snow White, who is one hundred times more fair than you."

She paced back and forth with an angry, vicious stride, striking and screaming at any servants who stood too close or breathed too loud or looked at her at all. What to do, what to do? She returned to her stock of tricks, and this time disguised herself as a man, a skilled trader, whom had passed through the kingdom a time or two. She gathered up a pile of lovely hair combs and poisoned every last one, then donned a pair of sturdy, handsome gloves and arranged them in a basket. She rode a little donkey through the dark, scary forest to the glen and the cottage. She knocked on the door and heard the bell-clear voice of her stepdaughter ring out.

"I'm terribly sorry," and she truly sounded sorry, "but I've been forbidden to open the door to strangers." Well that was a sensible precaution but rather annoying. No matter.

"No worries, young lady," the Queen called back in the trader's rich voice, "I do have some items to trade, but if you cannot let me in, and you cannot come out, perhaps you can simply take a look through the top half of the door?" She could practically hear Snow White dithering over the decision but her kindness won out in the end and the top half of the cottage door cracked open slowly. She peeked out and almost shut it again at the Queen's exclamation.

"My, what gorgeous hair you have! I have just the thing, just the thing." No bobbing this time, that was for silly peasant peddlers, not near-gentlemen like her current self. Snow was curious and leaned out a bit to see the basket being extended. It was filled with combs made of anything one could imagine – wood, glass, gold, silver, iron, horn, and they were decorated with fine jewels and filigree. She reached out a hand almost before she was aware of it, but snatched it back and looked up at the trader, who said, "Do any of these interest you?"

Several of them interested her, in fact, but there was one that was made of gold and silver with gems set in the shape of a flower, every gem as red as her own lips. She pointed it out and offered gems in trade – he could easily use them and Doc explained the dwarfs didn't mind (except Grantig, who minded everything from a breath of fresh air to a hot apple pie) – and the trader agreed. She held the comb, and the Queen hardly breathed with anticipation but the stupid girl just stood there. Did she not know how to use… oh of course she didn't. She'd never been permitted such finery while being crushed under her boot at the castle. "I can help you put your hair up with it, if you're not familiar with that style comb?" she offered, and Snow turned away – stupid child, so trusting! The Queen combed through her long black hair and then fastened two sections from the front up, careful to dig a bit into the scalp as she did so. Snow turned round and thanked the trader, turning over the gems, and shutting the door. Another month of food for the castle and a satisfying THUMP as the chit fainted within. What a marvelous day!

The dwarfs returned, their pace increasing as they noticed there was no smoke from the cottage chimney, nor food scents from the cottage window, nor lights drifting out, nor Snow's pretty voice singing and humming as she usually was. Flick was the first through the door and he motioned for Doc, rolling Snow over and shaking her. Doc checked but there was no corset. Snow's face was a bit bruised but she had fallen - so what had made her fall? Again he felt her pulse, irregular and too fast for the most part, but her chest barely moved with each swift breath, and her eyes rolled beneath their lids. She was insensible to any stimulation. He examined her paler than usual face, just like the last scare, and noticed he did not have to push her hair away to do so. It was fastened to the crown of her head with an elaborate comb. He yanked it out and threw it far when he saw the blood on the tip of each tooth, warning the others not to touch it. He carried Snow to the pump outside and thoroughly scrubbed her head. She did not wake for several weeks, laying on her cot like a corpse, while Doc and Flick and Peck all took turns feeding her and sitting with her during the day and caring for her weak body. Corpses are not in general very pretty, no matter how talented the undertaker, so for all this time the Queen was smug and gloating at her imagined success. Until Snow White's eyes fluttered open and she was able to rise, strengthened once again, and doubly warned of danger, to dress herself and let her cheeks flush with exertion of giving the now messy cottage a proper cleaning and the warmth of the oven as she baked. She had recovered beautifully and was back to her usual self.

"Queen you are full fair, 'tis true, but in the cottage, in the glen, with the seven little men, still stands Snow White, who is one thousand times as fair as you."

The Queen practiced deep breathing. For about 2 minutes before breaking every piece of pottery in her room, then kicking the girl who came in to sweep the bits up. She took a bushel of apples and poisoned all except the one on top, which was half poisoned and half not (in case she had to taste it to get the child to trust it was safe), wrapped in a piece of golden decorative paper to "show it off to advantage" and keep it from soaking up the poison on the other apples. She put on the face of a bonny young farm maiden and headed out into the dark, scary forest.

As she approached the cottage, the queen was certain her timing could not have been more perfect had she scryed for it. Snow was baking pies and the window over the stove was already thrown open.

"What a delicious smell that is!" she cried out in the accented voice of the young woman she was impersonating, laughing internally as her stepdaughter gave a scream and fell over. The child was getting paranoid. Rightly so, but still.

"Oh, pardon me! I was so startled – I didn't see you come up," said Snow White from the floor of the cottage, hand over her chest, trying to calm her heart and lungs. "I'm baking apple pies."

"Hmm. I dinna suppose you'd be willing to trade some apples for the recipe? I sell apples meself, but I'd sell twice as many if I put that recipe in the deal. 'Specially if I baked one meself first so people could smell it! What on earth d'ye put in there?"

"Cinnamon, a little rosemary – I know it's not sweet but it makes everything smell wonderful – and a few other herbs from the garden. I'd love a trade – I can always make more pies, or some jam, or applesauce even. How many would you trade for the recipe?"

"Half a dozen and one, if that sounds good to ye? Ye can test one first – 've got it here on top, it's my Very Fancy Apple!" The Queen pronounced the capital letters carefully, trying to sound young and excited and proud of her wares.

"Well, that can be my 'and one' I think – I don't want to take more than you're trading," said Snow with a quiet laugh. "I'll test it now, and then we'll trade."

The Queen handed over the apple in its fancy golden wrapping and watched as Snow White took a bite of the glistening red poisoned side. She hadn't even needed to bite it herself, stupid thing. The girl fell right down, didn't even have time to chew or look surprised or stop smiling. The Queen smiled too, but then frowned – that pie really did smell delicious, and now she would never find out what was in it. Unless…

She headed back to the castle with a freshly baked pie to turn over to the castle chefs. They were good at their jobs unlike some of her staff, they could likely figure out what the chit had baked into it.

When the dwarves headed home, they weren't worried at first – they didn't hear Snow singing, but the light was glowing, and the oven chimney smoking, and the smell of her lovely apple pie was in the air. But when they walked inside and found their girl on the floor, they all went into a panic – even Grantig. They fluttered around Doc as he checked her over from head to toe, but nothing could wake her from her faint. No pulse, and no breath, dead but still lovely, and the apple taken away with the Queen and the pie, they could not find the source of her trouble. And they could not bear to part with her, while she still seemed so vibrant. Peck, especially, who had some theoretical understanding of magic, was nervous she might wake any minute – that this was a trick, an enchantment or an illusion. They already knew the skill of the Queen, she might be expecting them to bury their apparently dead friend so that she would starve or suffocate alive in the ground. They shuddered at the thought. No, she would not be buried.

Tim and Tum sought in the mines a large, sturdy piece of rock, and from it they fashioned an intricately carved bier, covered in designs of flowers and snowflakes and the birds that fell silent when she sang. They covered it in a velvet cushion sewn up by Grantig, and placed a soft pillow at the head. They laid Snow White upon the bier, and built a thatched hut up around it to protect her from the wind and weather. They placed a fur over her to keep her warm and dry. There was always a dwarf standing guard with spear in hand, to prevent the Queen from doing Snow any harm.

But she cared no longer. Since Snow was dead, as pretty as her body looked, the mirror did not consider her competition. The Queen sat prettily on her throne, secure in the knowledge she had won, and ran her kingdom as she pleased.

Months passed by, and years, snow fell on the hut and the thatch had to be replaced in the spring, the rains washed away the ground and dirt had to be added back to the floor of the hut. The dwarves grew certain it was an indeed an enchantment upon Snow White, for she did not fade or decay. Her body lay still but looked as lovely as ever.

One day, while Dim stood guard, a young King from the south came riding by. He saw the sleepy dwarf standing with a spear out front of a hut, and he paused. What a strange sight that was! He dismounted from his steed, and strode over to the hut. The dwarf tried to prevent him from entering so he crouched down and introduced himself.

"I am King Ferdinand. I simply was curious about what you are guarding. What lies within this hut?"

"I am guarding Snow."

"Snow! My dear fellow, it's the middle of summer. I doubt your hut has remained cold enough to preserve any snow at all. It's probably all melted away."

Dim was not quite awake, since his shift was almost over and it was very early in the morning – the sun was only just rising now. So when he heard that Snow had probably melted, he rather panicked and ran into the hut to check. King Ferdinand followed him, and stopped, awed by what he saw – a sweet maiden laid out in the glow of the sunrise, apparently asleep on a bed of rock and velvet and fur. He could not help himself, and reached out to touch her hand, but was stopped by the flat of spear smacking it. Then the spear pointed up at him, and Dim said, "Not melting. Get. Out."

Ferdinand smartly retired from the hut, and Dim followed him. Another dwarf waited outside with another spear – Doc. Ferdinand did not want to upset them as his weapon was left on his saddle several feet away, so he said, "I did not mean to trick you, good dwarf – I thought you meant literal snow as falls in winter, which would be gone by now." Dim nodded roughly.

"I wish… I mean, can you tell who that maiden is? Why does she sleep guarded on a bed of stone?"

Doc answered, after shooing Dim back towards the cottage to sleep, "She is a friend of ours, the Princess Snow White from the kingdom in the north." The King gasped – the missing Princess, found after all this time. Apparently she had disappeared some 30 years ago on a walk and never been seen again. Foul play had been suspected but the Queen had never caught the suspect – a woodsman who had been sent to guard the girl. However…

"That's not possible! She went missing decades ago, she'd be half a crone by now. That woman is barely 20, at most."

"Ah. She lays beneath an enchantment, your Highness – her wicked stepmother, now the Queen, was jealous of her beauty. My brothers and I saved her twice from assassination attempts, and the woodsman sought for her murder saved her once as well, then fled the Queen's wrath. But in the end the Queen laid some spell upon her while we were away, and now she does not wake nor age. We simply have been watching over her in the hopes the enchantment would fade – even to death, so she could be truly at rest. But it is still strong, and she does not die, and she does not stir."

The King pondered this. The dwarf before him was ancient and bent, and the one he has seen earlier was not much younger. He asked, "Do any others know where she is?"

"No, your highness, we did not risk it in case the Queen attempted worse upon her."

"Forgive me for saying so, master dwarf, but you and your kin seem to be aging even if the Princess is not. Who will watch over her when you have gone?"

"Do you have someone you wish to recommend?"

"I do, or rather someplace. My kingdom has stood long, and looks to stand far longer, than either you or I might live to see. We could set aside a room in the palace for her bier, and she could be attended to by the staff of the castle for quite some time. It would be a true shame to leave her beauty out here in the wood to be disturbed by animals and seasons."

"I agree, my King, but must discuss this with my brothers. Will you accompany me back to our cottage?"

King Ferdinand agreed and followed Doc home. There he sat in discussion with the dwarves for many long hours until at last all – even Grantig and deaf old Flick – had understood what he was offering, and agreed. The King stayed with them a week while he waited for his squire to fetch back a wagon from the kingdom. He listened to their stories of Snow White and all she had been, all she had endured, and grew to admire her. He was most disappointed they could never meet.

The wagon came at last, and they loaded the bier in first. Ferdinand took Snow White, wrapped in fur and velvet, upon his horse himself. The dwarves accompanied him, riding in the wagon, as they wished to ensure Snow was properly settled in her new home.

When they were nearly to the walls of the city containing King Ferdinand's palace, a rabbit darted from the brush and ran across the path, startling his horse. It reared up and for a moment he feared he would drop the Princess. But he managed to keep them both upright until his horse thumped back down, although it had definitely jarred her. He patted his horse and tried to straighten the furs surrounding Snow at the same time, when he noticed that something was different. Her body, so heavy and still, was moving – the very burden of her was lightened as her muscles awoke and attempted to sit her up for the first time in many a year.

Ferdinand dismounted and began to remove the wrappings. Snow White yawned, and stretched, and lay on the fur on the ground in the morning sun. She looked up at the King and curled into herself, feeling rather shy, "Why hello! Who are you?"

The King knelt down beside her in awe. Here was the woman he had been longing so fiercely to meet – beautiful to his own eyes, and beside that – sweet and gentle, strong and kind, as the dwarves had described her. He could see she was afraid but determined to be friendly all the same. He replied finally, "I am King Ferdinand, of the southern kingdom, and I am feeling the most foolish urge to ask for your hand this very moment before you are snatched away by angels." He smiled crookedly at her, reminding himself to breathe as she smiled sweetly back.

"It has been quite some time since someone flattered me for my looks rather than my pies!" she returned with a laugh, "So by the way, have you seen my friends? They are seven brother dwarves."

"I have indeed! Master dwarfs, come down, come down from the wagon! I've a sight for you to see." The seven brothers all clambered down and stopped, struck by the sight of her, but Snow White was rather alarmed.

"Doc, lovely Doc, your beard has grown so! How long did I sleep this past night?"

The dwarves and Ferdinand all exchanged nervous glances. There had not been any true hope left for her to wake, so none had planned how they might explain the lost time. But Doc could see she was growing more frightened the longer she looked at them and saw hold old they appeared, so he stepped forward to hug her, and pat her back, and shush her gently.

"Hush lassie, hush. It's all right. What do you recall last?"

"…I was, baking a pie? For Peck's birthday, I think. A pretty redheaded girl smelled my pie while pulling her cart, and offered to trade me some extra apples for my pie recipe. I tasted one of the apples – it was so delicious…"

Doc nodded, that mystery finally solved for them. "Well, that explains how she got you the last time – we couldn't figure it out. Your stepmother sent someone to poison you with that apple, and just now his majesty's horse made you cough it back up I suppose. Hang tight girlie, though, because I'm about to tell you how long ago it was you were baking Peck a pie."

Snow clung to him, her face buried in his sleeve. She whispered so only he could hear, "How long, Doc? Just say it, I have to know."

"It's been 27 years, sweetheart." He held her tight as she hiccoughed and laughed and cried and screamed all at once. The rest of the party looked on in despair, feeling her intense grief at the lost time. It was several long minutes before she had any semblance of control again.

"And my father? My stepmother? My kingdom?"

"He's dead, Snow, passed away several winters back from a sickness passing through the kingdom. Other than that, the land is actually doing fairly well under your stepmother, aside from the fact that young pretty women frequently _go missing_. Accursed woman."

Snow was still crying weakly against him when another question occurred, "Why am I here, why are we here? Where were we travelling?"

"We met King Ferdinand as he was coming by the cottage. He saw you, and pointed out that if anything should…happen to us, no-one would know where you were and there wouldn't be anyone to watch over your enchanted body. So we were coming with him to his kingdom so you could be settled here where there would be staff to keep watch for a long, long time."

"Oh."

King Ferdinand watched her, but could not bear her distress.

"Your Highness, if I may, obviously that is no longer necessary, but you are still welcome in my lands. Say the word and I'll be happy to assist you with anything you require – shelter, funds… the reclamation of your kingdom from the woman who has hunted you. Just say the word, Princess. Oh, say it!"

She gave a weak smile, and thanked him, and thought it over.

"Just a place to stay for the time being, if that's alright with you. There is no need to disrupt my kingdom yet, if they are currently at peace and prosperous," here she looked to Doc, who nodded reluctantly.

"As you wish, your Highness. Do you feel comfortable rejoining me upon my steed, or would you prefer the wagon?"

"The wagon, if that's alright – I never really learned to ride. And do stop with that your highness business, just Snow is fine."

"As you wish then, Snow." He lifted her up into the wagon and they headed on their way to the palace.

Snow refused to reveal her identity, citing no-one would believe them anyway as so much time had passed while she remained young. She remained in the palace, learning how to run a kingdom since those lessons had ended when her father remarried. She and Ferdinand became great friends. Eventually he requested her hand in marriage, and she accepted happily, prepared to assist in running his kingdom if not her own.

But as her identity was secret, none thought to prevent invitations from being sent to her stepmother. She opened the scroll and decided to attend, but first, she paid a visit to her mirror. It had been quite some time since she had questioned it, as she looked better now than when she had taken the kingdom. She looked almost as young as Snow White in fact, from the hearts of the girls she had killed (corsets, always corsets, the silly things couldn't resist them and it meant she didn't have to worry over poison when performing the ritual feast). She leaned close, and then backed away in astonishment.

"Queen, you are full fair, 'tis true. But in the South, with her groom-to-be, the soon crowned Queen-Bride is fairer than thee."

Well, they would see about that. She'd douse the gifts and cake and dress and any damn thing she could reach in poison! They'd never be able to stop her, and some trumped up tart pretending at being a Queen wouldn't beat her looks.

The happy day arrived, and the Queen watched in anticipation then horror as the bride marched up the aisle – that was her stepdaughter, she'd been dead nearly 3 decades, and she hadn't aged a day since she'd been poisoned. Had she had a child prior to her death? But no, the priest was calling her Snow White as part of the vows. How? How? What had she missed? She reviewed the apple's poison in her head, trying to recall each ingredient, but that had been so long ago…

As Snow White and Ferdinand returned down the aisle, Queen Snow stopped with a gasp.

"You!"

It was the first time he had seen Snow angry and Ferdinand grabbed her before she could strike her stepmother, he knew she would regret it later. Snow sagged against him and started to sob, murmuring "you, you, you," continuously under her breath. That was too much for King Ferdinand.

"How dare you show your face here, you disgraceful excuse for royalty!" The crowd collectively drew in breath, but stayed silent, not wanting to disrupt the show. "You tried four times to kill my wife, nearly succeeded, not to mention murdering girls from your own kingdom to use in your disgusting witch craft – how old are you again, almost sixty I believe, and not looking a day older than Snow – oh heavens. No-one touch a bite of food, nor the flowers, nor the gifts. Touch nothing! She's likely poisoned it!" Everyone stepped away from the tables laden with food and gifts as he continued, "I cannot believe you are brave enough to set foot in my kingdom. Guards! Arrest this woman. She's a usurper of my wife's throne, with no real royal blood to lay her own claim, and she's a witch and murderer beside!"

The guards fell upon the Queen, and as she fought against them, the rose pinned in her hair fell down into her face. She was struck by its thorn – which she had poisoned – and she fell down dead much as Snow White had so many years before. Ferdinand leaned close to whisper with his head guard, instructing him to behead and burn up the body, no sense in having her return years later, then took Snow away to the palace where she could rest. Soon, they would have 2 kingdoms to run, and the forest in between them. She would need much rest before they started that.


End file.
